


"Will you--" "No."

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Grantaire, Background Les Amis de l'ABC, Bad Puns, Carpenter Grantaire, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Musician Feuilly, Puns & Word Play, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24322726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Feuilly, an extreme romantic, suddenly proposes to Bahorel out of the blue, nonchalantly.Bahorel promises he would only accept the proposal if it sweeps him off his feet.Feuilly keeps trying to surprise Bahorel but he keeps predicting his proposals which causes Feuilly to get more and more ridiculous and extravaganza in his following proposals of marriage.
Relationships: Bahorel/Feuilly (Les Misérables)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 16





	1. Bahorel

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case: This is a comedy, so for the sake of comedy I will over-dramatise these gays; so don’t try to pick holes in their relationship in being toxic or dysfunctional as it is unintentional or is in sacrifice for jokes. Thanks in advance.

The day couldn’t have been more ordinary. Bahorel was on his sofa, drinking capri sun as if it was beer while watching a game of rugby. On the floor, Feuilly was kneeling, folding laundry. 

On the television, it was a boring competition between an overpowered team against a new competitor- a newbie. Bahorel knew Feuilly didn’t like the sport; it was always baseball with him ever since they watched ‘High School Musical 2’ with him, although Feuilly was visibly upset there were less dance moves in the real life sport. Either way, he was hooked to the game. Just like how Bahorel was into rugby, or as Feuilly liked to call them, a porn without a plot; just dudes on dudes on dudes, piling up to make a sweaty bundle.

Feuilly sighed as he folded the clothes, not even attempting to watch the television; housework was more interesting to him at the moment. Not that Bahorel minded. He actually found it adorable that they were opposites of spectrums at times. It kept the balance from not being too similar.

Feuilly was folding his last t-shirt. Calmly, he twisted only his torso around so he could see Bahorel from the corner of his eyes. He shuffled to better position himself and shrugged as he nonchalantly said the most unexpected thing, “Do you wanna get married?”  
Time stopped for Bahorel. A second felt like a minute and the whole room fell silent except for indistinguishable low ramblings of the game playing. Bahorel watched Feuilly’s eyes carefully, in shock. Was he serious? “What?”  
“I don’t know…” He returned to folding his shirt, “Do you want to marry me?”  
Feuilly was lucky to not have been facing Bahorel at that moment, because he practically erupted, “Feuilly, you do know what ‘marriage’ means, right?”  
“Yep.” When he added the shirt to the pile, he stood up and cosily sat next to Bahorel as if he had just asked him about how his day went and not that he would like to spend the rest of his life with him.  
Bahorel slightly shook his head. “I’m not dreaming right?” He breathed out.  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Bahorel rubbed his face to his hands.

None of this was making any sense to him. Ever since they started dating, Feuilly had been a romantic. Even counting the time he confessed to Bahorel: he remembered it clearly. His friends called him As Feuilly got stuck on a tree like some cat. As Bahorel was on the grassy ground, wondering how he got into this situation, Feuilly realised his panic and diffused the situation by shouting, “Bahorel, you’re so treerific.” and pointed at the tree as if the pun wasn’t obvious enough, “And I’m root-ing for us to be together. Romantically.”  
Bahorel shouted back, “Why would I date a guy who’s so irresponsible?”  
“Well, I was just hoping you would turn over a new leaf…”  
Yep, Bahorel walked into that.

Now, that wasn’t so romantic, but it had the Feuilly flare, as he thought of it. And for some reason, in his marriage proposal- HIS MARRIAGE PROPOSAL- he missed the magic which made him… well, Feuilly.

“No.” Bahorel was afraid to look at him in the face. “The only proposal I’m going to accept is if you sweep me off my feet.”  
Feuilly stiffened up as if he didn’t understand his decision. But he was quick to agree nevertheless.


	2. Feuilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's trying, man

Bahorel was not the romantic type so Feuilly really made a mistake by thinking a casual proposal would've done the trick. Now there was pressure to give the best proposal. He tapped a pencil on to his chin while thinking.

He thought about what would be the best proposal from his point of view. He closed his eyes: he was in a stadium with Bahorel holding his hand. When he turned to face him, Bahorel was smiling, and Feuilly knew it was time. He went down on his knees and pulled out a ring. Then from behind them, a fan shouted “HOME RUN!”.  
Then Feuilly snapped out of it. Bahorel didn’t like baseball; it was only Feuilly’s interest, and he wasn’t going to propose in the middle of a rugby match. It would be almost impossible to tear his eyes off of the sweaty, glistening men in the first place.  
He sighed. He may have a little common sense, but at least he had a little. It wasn’t going to be in any kind of sports. He crossed the word ‘BASEBALL’ on his mind map and proceeded to rip out the part of the paper which said ‘RUGBY’. Definitely not.

He gave it more thought, subconsciously tapping the pencil harder to his head. Feuilly was a struggling musician with the only consistent fan being Bahorel. So perhaps he could sing him a song. It should be very easy… All he had to do was pour his heart out, rearrange the words so it made sense, make it rhyme and make sure it has a beat, then come up with the chords and… He banged his head against his desk. He gave out a huge exhale of frustration for what was to come. “I can do this.” He thought out loud. “I love Bahorel. I can do this.”

Surprisingly, he ended up creating a song within a week. However his verses seemed stitched together due to his emotions moulding into different shapes every day. So while one verse talked about his love for Bahorel’s eyes, the other verse focused on Feuilly’s loneliness if he wasn’t there with him, and the chorus was happy that got to propose to him with his song.

Nevertheless, he got to perform it on his classical guitar to Bahorel. It was a good sign since his eyes lit up as he sang. They practically sparkled- he recognised it as adoration. Those were the same eyes as when they celebrated their first monthiversary when they clincked their champagne glasses together in the comforts of their home with briefs on. It was both very romantic and informal. But just like that day, this song was mis-matched. The lyrics were jumbled because Feuilly put his heart into it without translating much of his emotions to actual comprehensive sentences.  
Bahorel picked up on this and by the time the song ended he lightly clapped, “Aw, that was so romantic Feuilly.”  
He smiled and Bahorel leaned in to kiss him.  
“But still no.”  
“What?”  
“Well, honey, that song was like Frankenstein's monster, being all stitched up with vastly different tones.”  
Feuilly looked at the ground. “I wanted to share all my emotions about you.”  
Bahorel smiled as he cupped his face, “Well, then choose a proposal that could capture all that emotion. I want it to be like a grand finale of a musical. Grand, yeah?”  
Feuilly smiled back, “That’s a high expectation.”  
“Very high.” He nodded.

So the next day, he thought about the most romantic person he knew. He knocked on his friend’s door.  
“I’m coming,” As the door opened, there, Grantaire was, with his bed-hair, “Feuilly, what’s up?”  
“Uh, I tried to get the most romantic person I knew.”  
“Oh.” Grantaire was flattered.  
“But Cosette wasn’t available.”  
Grantaire dropped his eyebrows, “At least I’m your second choice.”  
“Third. But let’s drop that, ‘kay?” Feuilly entered.  
“How? You only have two friends.”  
Feuilly ignored his comment. “Still doing carpenting?”  
Grantaire nodded, confused why he would ask that since his body odour was practically sawdust now.

Feuilly went to his garage, explaining what he wanted.  
“A jigsaw? Like the villain, Jigsaw?”  
“R, please. It’ll be romantic.” Grantaire opened his mouth, “And no, I meant a normal jigsaw.” Grantaire closed his mouth, “In the back of it there’ll be the writing of ‘Will you make me the happiest man alive?’.” He waved his hand dramatically.  
He lifted his eyebrow. “And what’s gonna be on the front?”  
Feuilly grabbed him by the shoulders excitedly, “The scene of our first date.”  
The location didn’t need to be elaborated further, Grantaire knew where it was. Since Feuilly had so few friends, all his romantic talks had to go to both Cosette and Grantaire. It got worse when Cosette went to travel to ‘discover herself’ and left him alone at the mercy of Fuilly’s romantic thoughts. That also meant he knew in detail on where their first date so much so that he had a fake memory of actually being in the restaurant.

So, as a painter as well, Granaire picked up a brush and started painting a dark blue background on the top and allowed for silhouettes at the middle to the bottom. They had the window seat, so the silhouettes were holding hands as they looked into each other’s eyes while the clear blue sky captured the outside. Speaking of outside, there was a plaza with people with individual, unique lives. There was the goth kid, a single parent with their child, and a street performer. But at the centre of attention were still on the two lovers as they were captivated by only each other.

This took three hours to complete with Feuilly squealing behind him as Grantaire painted. Feuilly was truly romantic. “Hey, so why did Bahorel make you re-do your proposal anyway?”  
Feuilly nervously laughed. And that was that. No more explanation. For a man who always talked about his love of his life, Grantaire was elated to find a method in how to make the man finally be quiet.

Hurriedly, Feuilly took the jigsaw back at home but had to cover the box since Grantaire jokingly drew a crappy version of Jigsaw on it, not that he knew who he was since horror movies bored him. Surprise surprise he only liked romantic movies.

When Bahorel started piecing the jigsaws together, he really thought hard about where the pieces went. So much so he kept juggling the pieces in his hand. Consequently, this made Feuilly so nervous as if he looked at his hand at any moment he could see the difference in the back of the pieces; and since Feuilly never had luck on his side as it seemed, Bahorel noticed the differences. “Hmm…” He thought.

By the time the puzzle was finished, Bahorel smiled as he saw the drawing. “Is this… Grantaire’s painting.”  
“Yeah.” Feuilly smiled.  
“It's about our first date? It’s beautiful.”  
“Then turn it over.”  
“Okay! But it’ll be a ‘no’ from me.” He happily flipped the puzzle.  


Feuilly lied on the floor as a result. 

Bahorel nonchalantly placed a cushion below his head so the hard wooden floor wouldn’t hurt him.  
“Why, Bahorel?”  
He chuckled, “It wasn’t ‘you’ enough. I want to marry you, not some version of you.”  
Feuilly placed his hand on his own chest, “Oh, you and your choice of words… Enough to make me faint.”


	3. Feuilly

Strangely enough, Grantaire made a good comment earlier on. Feuilly definitely needed more friends. The last time he had a large squad was at his University. He laughed to himself, remembering Les Amis. There was the loud blond leader who only saw the sky, accompanied by Grantaire who only saw the ground. Watching the two was like watching a vampire be friends with the embodiment of the sun: it shouldn’t make sense, but hey, they’re pulling it off.  
Then there was Combeferre, the second in command if Enjolras was ever ill. He handled the finance of whatever protest the group wanted to do so nobody really had a falling out with him. Even when Courfeyrac broke up with him, they still were on good terms. Losing either of them would have been devastating.  
Then there was Joly, who was just like his name, jolly. It was quite ironic since the man wasn’t even from an English-speaking country. Whenever anyone felt down, he and Bossuet would act like clowns to cheer everyone up. This usually happened after every failed protest. Feuilly only had good memories with them.  
Oh, and Marius was there. He didn’t contribute much but sometimes he would say random, unhelpful things which made everyone adore him for his quirkiness…  
Lastly, there was Jehan, the quiet one. He was the one who wrote Enjolras’ speeches and also wrote love poems although Feuilly never found out who they were directed to.

Thinking about his old friends and his old life made him miss how he felt. He didn’t want to be a student again, no, he was under too much stress. But he did want to meet his friends again. When his life felt fulfilled in the romantic department, he could focus on his platonic hole in his heart. Sure, there was Grantaire and Cosette, but… Then he had a bright new idea, which was actually bright since he highlighted it, on his mind map called ‘PROM NIGHT’. He was going to reconnect with all his friends, call them up, have the night of their lives. On that night, they would feel all the excitement and fun they had while they were students, but not the stress of being one. And there would be a photo booth. Magic happened there, right? Feuilly had watched enough romantic movies to know the photo booth had kissing moments. In his situation, he would propose to Bahorel there, and the machine would take a picture of them.

Feuilly smiled to himself as he typed in Grantaire’s number. There was no way he didn’t keep in touch with Enjolras- they were like an inseparable married couple.  
Enjolras would, of course, be the typical Enjolras, and still have the numbers of the rest of l’ABC.

Feuilly was excited again. For two reasons. He got to catch up with his friends and get engaged to the love of his life. Also he got to see Bahorel in a suit: there was no down-side.

It took three weeks, but Feuilly prepared it all down to the individual balloons. He invited all his friends and of course his Bahorel in his beautiful, magnificent black suit. They actually held hands as they arrived. Constantly, Feuilly worried that his hand was too sweaty. But once he entered the building, it was like breathing air from years ago. Every memory washed over them as they chatted to one another. For example, Feuilly learnt that most of his friends turned to theatre and did plays and musicals. Some went into media. It was all interesting to catch up. He wondered why he didn’t do this sooner; he shouldn’t have drifted apart with them. Suddenly, as if shot by lightning of adrenaline, he rushed to collect everyone’s number so he couldn’t lose them this time. He was going to reconnect.

“Um, Feuilly?” Bahorel called out. He was standing next to Enjolras, who was searching the room, probably looking for someone.  
“I saw Grantaire over there,” Feuilly pointed as he grabbed Bahorel and guided him to the photo booth. “You won’t believe--”  
“Feuilly, I know what you’re going to do.” He said gently.  
Looking deep into his eyes, he sighed, but not in a way which expressed illogical love, but one where a married couple would sigh as they were going to argue who was going to wash the dishes for the fifty-seventh time. “How can I propose to you then, if I can’t do it when you expect me to? You’re always going to know.”  
Bahorel snorted as if he said something funny. Casually, he cupped his face and whispered, his voice like music, “I trust you can make me surprised.”  
“That’s what every man wants to hear.” Feuilly sniffled, exaggerating.

Together, they enter the photo booth. In each photo taken, they got closer and closer until they kissed. The booth took a photo of their kiss. It was then Feuilly found out they were both messy kissers. “Huh,” He cocked his head, examining the picture with Bahorel, “I thought we were pros.”  
“Soul-crushing discovery.” He agreed.

Unfortunately, Feuilly was so busy in planning how to make Bahorel say ‘yes’, he forgot there was a family dinner the next day. So the two men woke up, tired due to the night before, and drank smoothies in hopes to wake them up. It worked because Feuilly made Bahorel his drink with secret ingredients he didn’t know about and vice versa. That way, there was no anticipation in how disgusting the drink would taste like, which added to the alertness.

This way, they made it through the family dinner. Feuilly’s mother blabbed on about how she wanted a child and that she would knit scarves for them. While his father wanted a DIY apprentice. Feuilly had suggested Grantaire before, but apparently he drank too much. Even for him.  
On Bahorel’s side of the family, his parents just nodded along and kept everything to themselves. Not that Feuilly’s parents noticed. He accidentally sighed loudly. Feeling guilt, he covered his mouth in shame. To soothe him, Bahorel leaned in and whispered, “This is it.”  
“What?” He whispered back.  
“The perfect moment to propose.”  
“Really? Because I didn’t-- oh.” He saw Bahorel begin to smile. Naturally he chuckled.  
“I’m joking, babe.”  
“I know. I love you so much you have no idea, Bahorel.” He gave a peck on his lips.  
“I sure hope so; I’d like to think I love you as much as you love me.”  
“Impossible.” He giggled as he kissed him again, very quickly. In this situation, there couldn’t be anything more than pecks. 

They continued eating, listening to the mandatory kids speech his parents made.

Feuilly breathed in. A flood of ideas swarmed him. He was going to woo Bahorel harder than any sims had done before. He was going to sweep him off his feet so hard he would fall into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna get funnier. I swear...


	4. Bahorel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see why Bahorel is so worked up on the proposals

More than anything, Feuilly was definitely committed. Whatever he planned, it was obvious, but the effort was admirable. He would usually clearly sneak off while they were on a date. Oh, did he have so many stories strangling each other to win the wrestle match of the strangest scenarios...

One time Feuilly popped up behind a bush with balloons with clown make-up. Yeah… Bahorel had no idea what his goal was there, more than anything he thought there was going to be some kind of a break-up rather than a proposal. But Feuilly wore the widest smile, so it was cute. However it wasn’t the ideal proposal.

Then there was a time when they visited a farm and Feuilly rented a cow, just to walk it in front of Bahorel and rang the bells tied to its neck as he said lousy and confidently, “Join me in holy mootrimony.”  
Bahorel couldn’t say anything for a full minute due to him laughing so much.

Then there was the time when Feuilly cooked an omelette for Bahorel’s breakfast in bed. While he was eating, Feuily murmured, “I’d be eggstatic if you married me.”  
As a result, Bahorel choked on his food. His face red, he shook his head. “Honey, no.”

Another time they visited a museum when the tour spoke about advances in male pregnancy, that soon, men would be able to get pregnant and give birth. Next to him, Feuilly leaned in as he touched his stomach and whispered, “That could be us.”  
Bahorel furrowed his eyebrows, “We don’t need to get married for that.”  
Feuilly sighed.  
He took Bahorel by the hand and strolled with him, away from the tour. “Do you actually wanna get married? It’s fine if you don’t want to, I know you’re not a romantic--”  
Suddenly panicking, Bahorel cut him off, “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant, Feuilly. I’m just…” He breathed in, “Waiting for the right time. The right moment.”  
Feuilly grinned, “Will you--”  
“No.” Bahorel laughed, “This is not the moment.”  
“Eh, worth the try,” Feuilly gracefully grabbed his hand to join the tour, “The clown thing was close to being the closest being the moment, wasn’t it?”  
“So close.”  
"Damn. That was improvised too."  
"You improvised a clown make-up?"  
Feuilly nodded, seemingly not noticing the weirdness of that situation.

When the time arrived for their movie night, he was at the cinema which played a pile of adverts; so, it was normal so far.  
Then one of the trailers played and it were clips of Feuilly and Bahorel together when they were younger, before they even started dating. Then Feuilly talked about how much he loved him. His friends then credited themselves as the editors. There were so many names squashed up on the screen. Feuilly had gotten his friends together- their old friends from uni- to help him make a montage. Feuilly was definitely out of his comfort zone.

After the trailer, Feuilly was so embarrassed he wanted to dig a hole in the ground and slid off his seat as a result.   
Bahorel chuckled as he crouched down so he could meet his eyeline, “That was really romantic, Feuilly.” He grinned, unable to contain how thrilled he was, “But the reason why I rejected your first proposal is because of how romantic you are.”  
“What?” Feuilly turned his head, confused.  
“Feuilly, you’re the most romantic person I know. I was caught off-guard on how nonchalant you were when you first proposed to me.”  
“But you like nonchalant.”  
“From everyone, yeah. But not from you, Feuilly, your slogan is to be dramatic. It's who I want to be with... Feuilly, you have always been romantic and somehow always so confident in yourself. I don’t want you to think back and regret this.”  
“I can never regret my proposal to you.”  
“You’re regretting this moment now. I can see how red your face is.”  
“That’s because you look so handsome, I'm blushing, monsieur.”  
Bahorel beamed, “You’re so adorable, I love you.” He leant in and kissed him. “But it’s a no.”  
“Thank God,” Feuilly smiled, “I’m not quite sure if you noticed but I was really embarrassed just then. Couldn't stop blushing.”  
Bahorel loved this man with all his heart. He chuckled, his eyes filled with admiration. He could see his future with him; it was near. There just needed to be the right moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking for synonyms for 'happy' (because I'm bad at coming up with words), and I found this:
> 
> Cock-a-hoop  
> adjective  
> Extremely and obviously pleased, especially about an achievement.  
> "the team is cock-a-hoop at winning its first game of the season"
> 
> That's all I wanted to say.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiii
> 
> SO. When I started this fic I was super happy but then I got hit with multiple... things and I got super duper sad for a while. When I bubbled back up, I got pulled back down and this happened on a loop.
> 
> Since I doubt I will be as high as I was (in the near future) I'm releasing my notes on how it was supposed to end minus jokes I was going to make about Cosette being a Disney princess and thus having control over geese (don't think about it too much).
> 
> Hopefully this makes sense and I am SO SORRY I couldn't finish this.
> 
> See ya ~

Procrastination?? I barely know her:

\- They then walk on the canal to end up in a ‘public’ park. Geese chase them, but Feuilly starts to panic and pass out. 

\- Bahorel is confused as he holds Feuilly, shocked that geese could scare him so much. He tries to wake up the unconscious Feuilly and looks around for help, desperately. 

\- One woman responds (and the geese calms down in the background). Bahorel glances back at Feuilly who's smiling now with a ring in his hand. He weakly says ‘surprise’.

\- Bahorel drops him and scolds him, not to scare him like that. Then he admits he didn’t see that one coming. He then helps Feuilly up and kisses him. He feels bad for the bystanders.

\- Feuilly reveals this is Marius’ private garden, and the woman (Éponine) is his childhood friend. He said he knew more than Bahorel and mini-celebrates that fact. 

\- Bahorel watches him in adoration and says he loves him. Feuilly says he knows that already. Bahorel then elaborates that he loves him and wants to spend the rest of their lives together. Feuilly is surprised this worked. He then says he needs to make numerous calls to cancel his future plans of proposals in hopes it isn’t too late for a refund. Bahorel laughs it off and kisses him.

\- Éponine (the stranger) finds this awkward and just straight up walks away without saying anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Nice to see you've reached the bottom! Thanks for reading :D


End file.
